


Ready

by zobothehobo



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3586014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zobothehobo/pseuds/zobothehobo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Readiness has always been a problem in Taylor and Harry's relationship.  They've broken up several times because one or both of them wasn't ready.  But what did it really mean to be ready?  They found out together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first haylor fic. I came up with the story a few weeks ago, and then I fell in love really hard with it and I wanted it out there. Enjoy!

Harry knew he shouldn’t be there.  ‘This is ridiculous, I am ridiculous and stupid,’ he thought as he walked up the steps.  He had been to Taylor’s apartment in New York once before with Ed, but it was only for a few minutes while Harry and Ed were on their way to dinner and Ed needed to pick something up from Taylor’s.  At that moment, he was so nervous, and never would have dreamed about being there in the middle of the night, drunk, and ready to spill his heart out to her.  ‘Well, here I am,’ he thought as he gulped and knocked at the door. 

 

Taylor shot up awake upon hearing the knock at the door.  She pulled her covers over her head and grabbed her phone.  Before she could dial, her security team was already on it.  She swiped the screen to answer immediately as they called, it didn’t even fully ring once.  “Who is it?!”  She hated that her life had come to this, being terrified that someone was trying to kill her or something in the middle of the night, but being photographed when she slept had become a fear of hers for legitimate reasons. 

 

“It’s your ex boyfriend.”

 

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief.  At least it wasn’t a pap or a stalker.  Well, it still may be a stalker, but at least it wasn’t a pap.  “Which one?”  Her voice had changed from fear to confusion. 

 

“Mr. Harry Styles, the one with the floppy hair.” 

 

“Heyyyy” Harry said as he reached up and touched his hair.  It was pretty damnit.  The security guard smiled.

 

Taylor’s heart sunk.  Why was Harry at her door?  What did he want?  She should have expected if any of her exes would be at the door at 2 AM, it would be Harry… but to be honest, she hadn’t really thought of it.  She knew they were friends, but they weren’t the kind of friends to show up at each other’s doors at 2 AM.  And what if a pap saw him??? Not even that, it just had to be someone with a camera.  A photo of Harry entering Taylor’s building in the middle of the night, that would sell and spread like wildfire.  Taylor took a breath.  “Let him in, I’m in the bedroom.”

 

“Will do ma’am.  Let me know if you need anything.” the guard said as he hung up the phone.  He turned the key in the lock and let Harry in.  “She’s in the bedroom.”  He flipped the switch to light the way for Harry. 

 

Harry walked through the apartment careful to look around and take in every detail.  He’d gotten much more nervous since he arrived at her door, the run in with security (which should have been to be expected, but in his drunken state, wasn’t) startled him and made him second guess this whole thing.  But it was too late to turn back, and fuck it, he was drunk.  He was going to tell her how he felt, not let her slip away.  He needed her to know.

 

“Haz, is that you?” A voice came from the bedroom. 

 

“Yeah, sorry.”  Harry replied.  Why he was apologizing, he didn’t know.  He wasn’t sorry for coming, or waking her up.  Scaring her maybe, but he couldn’t have avoided that.

 

“It’s ok, I’m in here.”

 

Harry pushed the door open and saw a freshly dressed Taylor sitting cross legged on her bed.  She stood up fairly quickly, nervous and embarrassed for even choosing the sitting position in the first place.  It was supposed to be cute and casual, but she was sure it came off as uncaring and cold.  The truth was, it didn’t even phase him.

 

They stood there awkwardly for a few minutes before Harry took a deep breath in, preparing to speak.  Almost as if with a planned and conscious decision to add to the awkwardness, Taylor opened her mouth to speak just as Harry finished his breath and began.  They stopped.  Silence.  Again speaking together.  Silence.  And once more.  Giggling ensued.  Her more than him, he was too nervous to giggle appropriately.  “Sorry for that Haz, I was just going to say it’s good to see you… although this was certainly a surprise.” 

 

“Yeah, I know.  I’m sorry about that, I just-I couldn’t wait.”  Harry looked down at the floor.

 

“Couldn’t wait about what?”  She hoped through her mind searching for what this could be.  She tried not to, but she ended up settling on the biggest fear option.  This was a habit she had picked up in adulthood.  Settle on the biggest fear option in her mind, that way she could prepare for the worst and handle the best.

 

“ ‘If you know how you feel, and you so clearly know what you need to say, I don’t think you should wait, I think you should speak now.’  You said that, and I think it’s really important to take those words to heart, so I just-I needed to come here to say it.”

 

Taylor smiled upon hearing the Speak Now album booklet.  It’d been awhile since she heard those words quoted at her.  She tried not to wince, anticipating what might be next. “Say what Haz?  Harry, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong, I just-oh god.  Ok… Here it goes.  I’m ready.”  Harry stopped. 

 

“What?”  Taylor felt her gut fall to the floor.  ‘Ready.’  The word meant a lot between the two of them.  They had a long history with this word.  There was a time Taylor would have killed to hear him say it.  ‘I’m ready.’   Now though, it was the biggest fear option.

 

“I’m ready, Taylor.  I’m ready for this, for us.  We broke up because I wasn’t ready.  But I’m ready now.  And I don’t just mean I’m ready for us to talk, hang out, and fool around.. I mean I’m ready for us to be together.  I’m ready for the media, I’m ready for the fans on both sides and their opinions.  I’m ready for the public and their opinions.  I’m ready for all of it.  I can handle it now, Swift.  I’ve got this.  I needed you to know that I’m not messing around and that I’m ready.”  Harry didn’t look up once during his speech, he couldn’t watch Taylor react, he had to get it all out.  But even so, he could feel her look of concern twinged with frustration.  “And more than that,” he continued, “I want to try again.  I want us to try again, now that I’m ready.  I think we could really have a shot.  I’m ready to really have a shot.”  There, he was done.  He finally looked up at Taylor, who as expected, looked concerned and frustrated. 

 

“Harry -” Taylor started.  She stopped though.  She really had to form these next sentences carefully, and he had had time.  It was just like him to do this, really unfair to be honest.  He had time to craft these sentences and a speech.  He didn’t have to look at her, he had the whole thing prepared.  He knew what he wanted to say and how he felt about it.  He and probably even thought through her possible responses and crafted opinions and responses to those.  She had none of that.  No warning, no prep time.  Just an unexpected late night drunken declaration of love.  “You’re drunk, and-” she continued.

 

He cut her off.  “No, I’m drunk, but I mean this.  All of it.  Please, Taylor.” 

 

With that plead, she had had it.  What nerve of him to come in here to _her_ house and feed her a declaration of love -and not even that, a declaration of _readiness_ as if the love was just implied but didn’t ever need to be stated, even as a courtesy- and be drunk in the process, and then tell her “please, Taylor” when she said “you’re drunk.”  Who did he think he was?  “Excuse you Harry.  Do not “Please Taylor” me.  I am doing the best I can with this, but you’re drunk, and it’s the middle of the night, and I’m not sure this is the best time to do this.” 

 

“Why not?  It’s 2AM, the hour of feeling.  Isn’t that what you called it?”

 

“Yeah, and How I Met Your Mother taught us nothing good happens after 2AM.  Maybe we should listen.”  The words fell harsh out of Taylor’s mouth, she felt bad for the harshness of her tone, but it felt appropriate somehow.

 

“What happened to you?” 

 

“Nothing!”  Taylor said setting up shop in Defensive Lane.

 

“You used to be so…” Harry searched for the words, “free.  Yeah, that’s it.  You used to be so free.  Free with your emotions, your life, your love.  You used to be so free, so optimistic, so full of hope.  And now what?  You believe that in the hour of emotion, nothing good happens?  After the emotional time of the night sets in, good things stop and bad things begin?  Who are you?”

 

“I don’t know Harry, I’m not that girl anymore.”  Taylor felt attacked, but she didn’t feel like fighting, so she took the defeated route.

 

Harry was having none of it.  He was going to fight with her.  He came all this way, he was going to properly be heard.  “Well that’s the girl I fell in love with.”

 

“Too bad then, I guess I’m just somebody that you used to know.” 

 

Harry shook his head.  “No.”

 

“No?!”  Taylor realized he was going to make her fight with him.  Her anger was possibly more directed at the instance on fighting than the fight itself.

 

“No.”  Harry stayed firm.  “I don’t accept that.  Maybe you think that, but I think you’re just scared.”  Taylor scoffed.  “You can scoff all you want, but I know you Swift.  There’s something you’re not saying, possibly even to yourself.  You’re scared and you’re hiding behind change.  But it’s not change, not really.  There’s a part of you missing.  And I mean a part of _you_.  We all have parts about us that change, that mature, that grow up.  But at our core, we are who we are.  You are not a different person, you’re still just Taylor.  You’re just afraid.  You’re letting fear run your life and it’s bullshit.”

 

Taylor was pissed now.  “So that’s what you came here to say.  You came to my house drunk in the middle of the night, scared me half to death, to say that I’m bullshit?” 

 

“Fuck you.  You know that’s not fucking true.  You’re doing that thing you do.  Fuck you.”

 

“What thing that I do?  I’m not doing anything.”  They were really in it now.  References to ‘that thing she does.’  He’s made it so many times, it was a common character in their previous fights when they were together.  She hadn’t heard of it in a while, not since they’ve been friends. 

 

“Oh shut up.  Look, I came here to tell you that I was ready for us and that I still love you and that I want to try again.  You were the one who started the bullshit and deflecting and trying to pretend I didn’t mean it and you hate emotion and all that shit.  I just wanted to tell you I still care and that I’m ready and that I want to try again.  If you don’t want to, all you have to do is fucking say it.  But this shit you’re doing making it some big thing and ignoring what I’ve actually said, that shit’s childish and so old.  I’m over it Taylor.”  They were silent for a moment, letting the words sink in.  Taylor feeling scolded like a child, and Harry feeling sad and frustrated, like the parent who just wants the best for their child, even though they’re never listened to.  “I think that’s how I know I’m ready.  I’m over the shit.  I just want you.”

 

Taylor felt herself start to break.  Her lips trembled, her eyes watered, her thoughts raced.  She felt her breathing shallow, breaths becoming quicker and more audible with every one.  She felt her heart beat, hard, fast, and then skip, the familiar arrhythmia.  She glanced up and saw the bathroom door.  It wasn’t far from her, and it was an escape.  Living up to her name, in one swift motion she ran into the bathroom and shut the door.  There, in the emptiness of the room, behind the safety of the door, she broke down.  Tears began to flow, light scratches and pulls at her skin began to occupy her hands. 

 

“Taylor?”  Harry was concerned now.  He didn’t mean to make her cry, break down.  He just wanted to talk.  Why was it they couldn’t have an honest conversation of emotion without one person shutting off and crying.  “Taylor, I’m sorry.  If this is too much… but I needed to say it.  I hoped you’d know why, but I needed to say it.”  He stopped and listened, he heard the crying on the other end of the door soften, breaths became deeper, as if returning to normal.  He didn’t want to push it, but he was drunk.  Decision making skills were not so much his strong suit in that moment.  “I also wanted to hear your response.”  He paused for a moment to make sure she did not get worse, she stayed the same.  “I just really want us to talk, really talk, without the bullshit and the walls.  What are you scared of?”

 

Taylor listened as he spoke.  She put her hands on either side of the sink and looked into the mirror.  She saw herself, disheveled as she was.  Bedhead not made up, sweater thrown on from the other side of the room, no makeup, eyes puffy, cheeks shiny from the tears.  She rarely saw herself this honest.  Even when she was at home alone, she would do her makeup hair and dress up nice, _just in case_.  It was sobering.  She blew her nose, threw away the tissue, and opened the door. 

 

“Do you want to know what I’m scared of, Styles?”  She said eyes locking with his, not wavering. 

 

He nodded in affirmation. 

 

“I’m scared because you’re not.”  Taylor said firmly, letting her eyes break from Harry’s.

 

“I’m not what?”  Harry’s tone was calm, just confused.

 

“Not ready.”  Taylor said quietly, looking at the floor.  She didn’t want to look at him when the words fell out of her mouth.  There was too much there.

 

Harry smiled a bit.  “Of course I’m ready, that’s why I’m here.  That’s what I’m trying to tell you.  I understand all that ready means, every last bit of it, and I mean it.  I am ready.”  Harry felt his enthusiasm grow, if this was her problem, he could fix it.  He did, after all, mean it.  He knew what it was to be read, and he was.

 

She shook her head. 

 

His smile fell, his face softened.  He closed his eyes and shook his head.  ‘Of course.’ He thought to himself.  “But you’re not.”  His eyes opened and looked at her.  He felt every muscle in her body relax now that the cat was out of the bag. 

 

She felt her muscles relax too, but she tried not to show it.  It wasn’t even voluntary, any of it.  The relaxing and immediate re-tensing.  It all seemed like it came from outside of her, and she wouldn’t have even noticed it if she wasn’t insanely intune to every thing her body was doing.  “That’s ridiculous Harry, I’ve been ready.  It’s you-”

 

He cut her off.  “No, Taylor.  Stop.  It was me, and then it was both of us, and now it’s you.  It doesn’t mean anything less about you, it just means you’re not ready.  And it’s a lot to be ready for, trust me, I get it.”

 

Taylor tried not to feel scolded.  She bit her lip and swallowed.  She searched for the words, but all she could find was silence and angry, sad, frustrated gestures and body language. 

 

“If there was anyone to be the last person to judge you for not being ready, it’d be me.”  He continued after what felt like a silence gone on a little too long. 

 

She blinked slowly, her gestures and body language intensifying. 

 

“And I mean really, you owe it to yourself more than anyone to admit that, Tay.”

 

And there it was.  She broke, again, into tears.  This time staying in place, not hiding behind a door.  “Ok fine,” she spoke through the tears, “I’m not ready.”  She looked up at him.  He tried not to smile, satisfied he’d called her out and forced her to open up.  “I’ve tried, but I’m not.  You went through a lot, Harry, you did.  But I got the brunt of the hate from the public.”

 

“I know” Harry whispered. 

 

“I don’t know if I can do that again.”   She broke her eyes away from him and forced them around the room, trying to look anywhere but at him.  “With anyone,” she continued. 

 

Harry’s face and fallen, his smile faded, and a look of concern had crept on his face.  Regardless of what happened here tonight between the two of them, he hated seeing her this broken.  But if it wasn’t him, if it was anyone she couldn’t do it with ever, he couldn’t help her. 

 

She finally looked up at him.  “If I was going to do it again, you know it’d be with you Haz?  Right?  I meant it when I said ‘I know for me, it’s always you.’  If I was ready for anyone, it’d be you.”

 

Harry took those words to heart.  He let an audible exhale escape his body.  “I know.”  He walked over to her and took her in his arms.  He could see how bad she needed to be held.  “I know Taylor, I know.” He reassuringly repeated softly, running his hand up and down her back. 

 

After a few minutes of this, Taylor felt too comfortable, too happy, too at peace to not try _something_.  Nothing wasn’t good enough anymore.  “Harry?” she said pulling out of the hug. 

 

“Hmm” he responded, looking up at her.

 

Taylor paused for a moment before continuing, trying to gain footing before she went down that rabbit hole.  “What if I-” She stopped, unsure if she really wanted to continue.  He opened his eyes wider in anticipation of the end of her sentence and she saw a gleam.  _That_ gleam.  His beautiful green eyes did this thing, it was mesmerizing and captivating to her.  She smiled softly and said “what if I take some time and really try, do the work, fight with myself… What if I get myself ready?”

 

Harry tried not to get too excited, or rather, seem too excited.  He didn’t want to spook her.  “What if what?” He replied hesitantly.

 

“Would you wait?”  She had high hopes and low expectations.  It was unfair of her to ask him to wait for her, and he couldn’t tell the future and _know_ he was going to be ready when she was, she knew all of this.  But she felt like she had to ask anyway, because what if he said ‘yes?’  What if he would wait for her?

 

“Yes, absolutely.” he said without a single waver.  “I will wait for you, and I’ll try to stay ready so I am when you are.  When I say I’m ready right now, I mean I’m ready for that too.  I’ll wait.”   He was suddenly taken with the fear that he may have gone too far, that he may have over-assured, leading to an air of insincerity about his words.

 

His fear was assuaged when she took a deep breath, exhaled, and said “Thank you.”  The words fell quietly and softly from her mouth, gracing the moment like light snow finding itself on the ground after floating down from the clouds. 

 

He hugged her again, pulling her tight.  “Any time Swift” he whispered in her ear.

 

He left quickly and quietly.  She insisted on having her security go check to make sure no one was waiting with a camera when he left.  There turned out to be one guy, who Harry swore wasn’t there when he arrived, but he was asleep.  Taylor decided it was safe for Harry to sneak away. 

 

He left and she sat alone in her room and looked around.  She grabbed her guitar, because that’s what she always does when she feels strong emotions, and thus the quest for readiness began. 


End file.
